Two So Inclined
by Pirate College Graduate
Summary: She is out to collect the four scattered pieces of the Scroll of Set in honor of her father's memory, but first she'll need one Mr. Carnahan to be her guide. Will Jonathan prove to be his usual comedic and sloppy self, or will this woman push him to brave new heights he had not thought possible of himself?
1. Chaos

Egypt, Avaris, 1906

_The scorching sun must be closer to this place, this city of Avaris, as her father called it, than anywhere in the world. Alexandria Robinson was sure of it. The seven year old lifted her dress to her brow, wiping away as much sweat as she could before the local workers turned around and were made aware of her knickers. Pressing the folds of the material back into place around her ankles, she walked gingerly towards the monstrous hole of dirt, where her father was busy yelling at the workers._

_"La la la la la! Not there! La! Gently! Nam, yes, moomtaz, very good." He patted the man known as Kazeem on the shoulder and climbed up the makeshift stairs from the hole, shoving rolled up papers into his back pocket and wiping his glasses on his shirt._

_Daniel Robertson had been searching for any proof that the Cult of Seth, located in Avaris, had once been part of dark dealings with the god of Chaos, who now laid dormant within the Earth, his soul supposedly trapped within the Scroll of Set, according to legend. Supposedly a high priest, Horwed, had finally discovered the way in which to imprison the untamable, malignant god after his dealings with the Cult had taken a deadly turn. The battle between man and god had cost Horwed his life, but his name had become infamous, in a sense; a hero who should not have been involved in such negative dealings in the first place. His name had all but been reduced to legend and his body supposedly lost to the sands by the time Daniel decided to go searching for evidence to prove that the duel was anything but a tall tale. _

_Alexandria ran to her father and attached herself to his leg. Each day he spent in the hole could mean a day he might succumb to the heat, or might fall off the rickety ladder provided by the men under his watchful eye. WIth the loss of her mother only a few years back, her father was what she had, and out here in this vast wasteland his presence acted as her oasis. _

_"Look, Alex," Daniel said, bending down to show his daughter a piece of chipped pottery with strange markings on them. Alexandria couldn't read the markings, but thanks to her father's research, she knew they were hieroglyphics of some sort. "These markings right here read 'rwed,' but the first part is cut off. It's definitely a good sign. Perhaps we're getting close to where Horwed was laid to rest."_

_Alexandria nodded silently and followed her father under the monstrous tent that served as her father's research area, their home, and their cooking station during the nights and days when the weather became too hot even for the local workers. While she found this ancient Egyptian stuff interesting, she didn't really see the point in being too excited about one little pottery shard. For Alexandria, seeing a mummy or even some sort of gold would've been a lot more interesting. But so far for her and her father, there was no such luck._

_Daniel sat down and began to lightly dust off the broken piece with a small, brush almost as dusty as the pottery shard itself. Alexandria watched over his shoulder as he held the piece gently, ever so gently, just as he had held her for the first time, the brush strokes almost like a soft whisper against the ancient clay. She attempted to hold her breath in order to not distract him, but it did not work. He turned around to smile at her, his brushing tool still lightly caressing the pottery shard distractedly. _

_"Want to try?" he said, standing up and patting the seat. Alexandria lightly sat down, the bottom of the chair still warm from the midday heat and from her father's frame. Daniel handed her the brush and she began to lightly brush with her right hand, her left hand squeezing the piece so as not to knock it to the ground. _

_"So, what exactly do you think of while you're down there, dad? I mean, doesn't it get boring when you don't find something and it's just dusty and hot?"_

_Her father let out a chuckle and leaned it to admire her handiwork. The carved hieroglyphics began to clear of ancient dust, and her father suddenly took the piece from her, blowing on it to clear any remaining specks. _

_"Well, mostly I'm thinking about the task at hand. Sometimes I'll think about you, or maybe what life was like in ancient Egypt. And sometimes I'll think about your mother." He gave Alexandria a small squeeze on her shoulder, and she handed the shard back to him, unsure of what to say. _

_"I think she would be surprised at how much you've grown to look like her. All brunette and all spunk," Daniel said quietly, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than to his daughter. "She'd be damn proud, that's for sure." _

_Alexandria paused for a moment. "Dad, if Egyptian gods do exist, where would mommy be exactly? I mean, do Egyptian gods and God exist together? Or what?" _

_Daniel laughed again. "So many questions beyond your age. You've got her brains too." He put down the artifact. "I'd like to think that whatever is true, your mother is definitely in paradise, wherever that may be. She certainly deserves to be there." He turned to her, his grin widening. "And since Seth is at bay, there's no need to worry about chaos affecting Ma'at either." _

_Ma'at was the newest Egyptian concept Daniel had taught his daughter during their month-long stay in Avaris. Whenever, he could spare time, Alexandria's father would teach her Egyptian words and their meaning. Ma'at, which Alexandria found extremely fun to say, was the goddess of truth, balance, and order. Alexandria hoped that if Ma'at were real, she would be there to protect Alexandria's mother. _

_Suddenly, an excited cry from outside the tent caught the attention of Alexandria and her father. Both ran to the source of the noise, and found the diggers pulling from the sands a tattered and large scroll attached to something else. As they continued to lightly pull the scroll, a pair of boney, papery hands appeared from beneath the sands, the skeleton's grasp upon the scroll as strong today as it must've been in ancient times. Each digger, including Daniel himself, jumped back at the sudden appearance of the decrepit form. The diggers holding the body overcame their shock and laid the mummy lightly in the sands before stepping back, allowing Alexandria's father to approach. _

_Daniel crouched above the figure and slowly, gently, successfully pried the ancient scroll from its hands. Sitting on the sand, he slowly unschooled the words and silently deciphered. Alexandria, much to the chagrin of the diggers surrounding her, climbed down into the hole and sat next to her father. This time, he did not acknowledge her in any way as he continued to read. She could hear him whispering the words of the ancient, dead Egyptian tongue under his great, his head movements following his eyes as he scanned rapidly. Suddenly, he stood up in a fury._

_"Gentlemen! This is it! Inshallah! This is what we have been searching for! Look for yourselves!" He climbed from the hole, Alexandria at his heels, and ran to the tent to roll out the scroll underneath proper shade. A few of the diggers - those who actually seemed to have interest in what they were searching for - crowded around him to see the object up close. Daniel grabbed a stubby pencil and notebook and began to translate the pictures into words._

_"I, Horwed, seeker of the god of Seth, seeker of threat to Ma'at, fool of a man, hereby imprison this god…"_

_As her father read out loud, Alexandria noticed the men who had stayed outside near the dig site were moving in a formation towards the tent, as opposed to lazily straggling. It was strange. And they appeared to be carrying something. What it was, Alexandria couldn't quite tell, but it aroused her suspicion. She tapped her father on the shoulder, but he was so entranced with his work he didn't notice._

_Suddenly, shots rang out, and the man standing next to Alexandria collapsed to the ground, a river of crimson flowing from his chest. She screamed and instinctually jumped into her father's lap, clinging to his neck, her nails digging into the skin. She felt her father's frame freeze beneath her, and at the same time, a cold, round object was pressed to her neck. _

_"Both of you, with us," sneered one of the men. He cocked his gun for emphasis, and Alexandria felt her father lift her off his lap, place her on the ground, and grab her hand as he faced the voice calling to him. Alexandria looked up and found one of the younger diggers - Mahmoud, she believed his name was - giving the pair a most deadly glare as they exited the tent. Alexandria turned around and saw another digger grab the pottery shard and scroll before the butt of the gun smacked her in the head, forcing her to turn forward. _

_"Gentlemen, if this is about money, I assure you, force and _murder_ were not necessary," Alexander said. His voice sounded professional, but Alexandria knew that twinge of anger underneath. It was the same voice he used whenever she refused to go to bed. Except this voice didn't hold the slightest of warmth in it. _

_"We are not men looking for money, Mr. Robertson. If we were, we would've robbed you and left you for dead long ago. We are here to collect something much more powerful, much more potent, and much more deadly." _

_"I do not understand." Alexandria and her father were on their knees, their arms above their heads in surrender. Daniel's hip touched his daughter's lightly, and despite the circumstances, she was only slightly comforted to know he was so close. The workers surrounded them in a circle, their guns resting against their chests, their eyes on the duo. _

_"We are here to release Seth from his imprisonment, Mr. Robertson. And you are just the right man for the position. After all, it was us who financed and volunteered to help with your dig, was it not? The lowly workers? The brown-faced fools, as so many tourists call us? No one would suspect local imbeciles of such a crime, after all. And we know this place like the imprints on our skin-the authorities do not."_

_"I do not understand," Daniel said. "Why even tell us as much? Unless…." His voice trailed off and his lips shut in such a thin line they almost couldn't be seen. "No. Please. No my Alex. You may take my life, but please spare hers. She is an innocent."_

_"She is a witness, therefore she is not innocent. We will dispose of you both - after you perform the ritual." Mahmoud sneered as he walked towards the pair. "Worry not. At least you will both be reunited in the afterlife." He walked away from them towards one of the members of the group._

_Alexandria, too afraid to lower her tired hands to wipe the tears away from her eyes, let them fall into the sand, causing it to coagulate and darken. She felt a hand reach hers and saw that her father, quickly and subtly, had given her hand a squeeze before pulling away. She looked from her father's hand to the crowd of men before her. Each had a neutral expression on his face save for one: Kazeem. He subtly looked between father and daughter frantically, as if to convey a message. He looked towards Daniel but nodded in Alexandria's direction. She looked up and saw her father give him a short nod, which he returned. She dare not ask what it meant while they were captive, but her curiosity was potent nonetheless. _

_Both men looked away from one another as Mahmoud appeared before Alexander, throwing the scroll at his feet and placing the barrel of the gun at the back of his neck. _

_"Read." _

_As he said the words, the men surrounding the circle, Kazeem included, lifted their guns to the ready and cocked them, the clicking sounds deafening in the quiet desert night. A small sob escaped Alexandria's mouth, but it went unnoticed. _

_Her father gingerly reached for the scroll, unraveling it carefully. Even under pain of death, Daniel Robertson had an innate respect for antiquity. As he began reading the ancient words, slowly, the hieroglyphs on the scroll began to glow a bright red. And there was something on the scroll that Alexandria hadn't noticed before - a dog-like figure on the top left of the page. His ears were extremely tall, and he held a staff almost as tall as them. Alexandria realized him to be the god Seth -the very one that the men were trying to raise from his papyrus prison. Much to her horror, as she watched the figure, he, a god imprisoned in a 2D setting, turned his head to look towards her father, his eyes glowing red as well. _

_Suddenly, the red glow from within the scroll began to seep out flowing into the cool night air. It slithered outwards and caressed each individual as it passed, including Alexandria, although she felt nothing to the touch. Then, just as it had begun to seep out, the red ether was sucked back into the scroll, even as her father continued to speak. Only now did Alexandria notice that he was no longer reading from the scroll. Instead, he seemed to be saying the words from deep within a part of himself that had long since been tucked away. Then, at a speed so fast it almost seemed like it had not happened, the scroll ripped into four pieces and scattered into the night air, the smell of smoke lingering in the air. She stared at the air, stunned for a moment, before her father's head was pushed to the ground by Mahmoud's foot._

_"You! What did you do?" In one swift move, Mahmoud's gun rested against her father's scalp, the pressure of it causing Daniel to wince. Daniel remained quiet. "What. Did. You. DO?" He pushed the gun in further, and a small drop of blood dirtied her father's hair. _

_"Seth will not rise," he said. "And even if you do find the pieces, you will have no way of resurrecting your chaotic force. Ma'at will remain restored." _

_It was the last time Alexandria heard her father's voice. In the next moment, gunfire rang out, and her father's lifeless body fell next to her, his eyes open in an empty stare. She let out a blood-curdling scream before insanity broke loose. Suddenly, explosions happened to her left and right, causing sparks to fly around the men all scattered, their voices yelling out Arabic words she could not understand. She ran, she didn't know where to run, but she ran. Suddenly, her pace was cut short by two dark hands wrapping around her tiny body. She screamed into the man's shirt, and felt breath in her ear._

_"Alexandria, do not fight. It is me, Kazeem. Your father was attempting to tell me that I should be the one to take care of you. I am the one who threw the firecracker to distract the men in order to rescue you. And now, that is what I am going to do."_

_And with that, he lifted her from the ground and raced to the nearest sand dune, his breath even as his pace quickened, a seven-year-old orphan openly sobbing in his arms. _


	2. A Deal

Phew! I forgot to add an author's note to the last chapter, but since we've gotten that out of the way, here it is: I've had this idea for years but it always sat sort of dormant in my mind, so I decided that now that I've graduated college I have time to put this shit to bed. As much as I love ArdethxOC, I already have an ArdethxOC OTP, and to create one of my own would feel strange. Plus, as one reviewer said, Jonathan never gets enough love. And I thought, "Jonathan is always the comedic relief, but what if he wasn't? What if he was the heroic comedic relief aiding our heroine? This will be as realistic as possible, and I promise you'll still recognize Jonathan. Any praise or critique is certainly welcome and appreciated! -PCG

Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own anything you recognize, but I totes would if I could.

_Cairo Museum, 1927_

The pounding was rhythmic. That much he could tell. Even in his hungover, delirious state he could pick out the count: three sharp pounds then about five seconds of silence, then three sharp pounds again. For all he knew, they could've been going on for thirty seconds or thirty minutes thanks to his dozing. Though, why any sane person would continue knocking at an unanswered door for thirty minutes was beyond him.

On what he picked out to be the fourth set of knocks since he'd half awoken (or at least, the fourth set he'd heard), a voice accompanied the knocks.

"Mr. Carnahan? Mr. Carnahan, are you present?"

Even close to a drunk death, as he had once heard an American chap call it, Jonathan Carnahan, Egyptologist, playboy, _mess_, could deduce three things about the voice: young, female, British. These three facts proved to be enough for him to attempt to stand on his own without support from his desk (an absolute fail, he might add), wipe drool from the corners of his mouth, and walk steadily towards the door to open it.

What greeted him perked him up just enough to pretend he hadn't spent the previous night either downing whiskey, wine, or the saliva of various ladies.

It was a woman, a gorgeous woman, perhaps ten years his junior, looking deadly serious in a formal red gown, her hair in long ringlets that fell about her shoulders. He could detect sweat along her forehead, and even noticed a bit of sunburn on her neck.

_Shit. Stop staring._

Jonathan shook his head and focused back to the woman's eyes, and the sharp gaze that greeted him with an air of intense judgment. Perhaps she was one of the women who had accompanied him back to the museum last night?_ Let's see, there was Shelly, Reba, Amna...?_

He racked his brain for an image of her from the night before, but couldn't find one, and even in his most inebriated state he was knew he would remember her striking features. But then again, from the almost angry look on her face, maybe not.

"Mr. Carnahan, I am-"

He decided that perhaps he was just drunk enough to forget her. "Back for your things? Fine, yes, yes, go on, grab whatever you need. I'm sure it's…"

He looked behind him at the scattered books and papers, the not-so-cleverly-hidden empty wine bottles, and the discarded clothing.

"…somewhere." He turned around and gave her an apologetic look, and her look of almost anger turned into confusion. How had the place gotten into such a disarray so easily?

"I beg pardon, Mr. Carnahan?"

"Were you not here…last night? Didn't you tag along with Reba? I mean, I'm sure I would remember YOU out of the bunch, but then again perhaps not. I was a bit..." He kicked a bottle still partially filled with liquid away from his foot. "Indisposed. But I mean, after a long day's work and all, one is allowed to having a drink to relax and enjoy the companies of ladies while he does so." He was attempting to cover his tracks, and in the process, had made himself look completely unprofessional, and a rambling fool. And he was mostly sober!

But that was the way of Jonathan, and it had only gotten worse since Evie had moved to London.

"Are you implying that I am one of the loose women with whom you are implying you have late night trysts?" Her stone sober expression now boasted a hint of anger.

"What..well…it was a safe assumption, I suppose, but clearly I'm wrong," he said, shuffling his feet nervously.

"Indeed, Mr. Carnahan, you are." And with that she pushed past him and marched into the room, heaving a rucksack on his desk.

He gingerly approached her. "Look, uh, Miss…"

"Robinson. Alexandria Robinson."

"Right. Mrs. Robinson." Jonathan put his hands in his pockets nervously and wandered towards his desk, watching as Alexandria pulled from her bag what looked like a map and unraveled it, using four empty wine bottles on his desk as paper weights. "Erm, What exactly is it that you're doing?"

She finally turned to him. "I am looking for items buried in various locations throughout Egypt in order to honor my father's memory. He...passed when I was young" Her gaze returned to the map, her voice taking a sober tone.

"Right, well..." He got the feeling it was better not to delve further into what she meant about her father, given the sudden extremely sad tone her voice had taken. And in all honesty, it didn't really matter to him. "What exactly is it you're searching for?"

"I am looking for the four pieces of the Scroll of Set," she answered matter-of-factly, all sadness gone from her voice as she continued to gaze at the map. She was back to business.

"No," he said, much in the same way that Rick had when his sister had approached the cell and asked Rick to carter them to Hamunaptra. _And look how that turned out_

Alexandria turned to him. "No, Mr. Carnahan?" She sounded almost bored.

"First off, stop calling me Mr. Carnahan, Jonathan will do just fine, thanks. And secondly, no. No thank you, missy. I've seen my fair share of maps that can get people killed, and I've seen people killed just because some American folk had to go and get their dirty, greedy hands on some treasure-treasure that got them _killed,_ by the way. Plus, everyone knows that the scroll of Set is rumored to have contained the God of Chaos himself, and if the pieces were to ever be brought together mankind may never see peace again." Jonathan looked to Alexandria, and noticed that her expression hadn't changed at all duing his little tirade. In fact, she still looked...well..._bored._

Finally, she spoke up. "Well, firstly, _Jonathan,_ I am not American, clearly. Secondly, I don't intend to awaken some creature from its grave much like you and your lot did, and thirdly, and thirdly, I am a Cambridge graduate, and therefore a scholar, not a treasure seeker."

Jonathan stopped pacing at the mention of the Creature. "Wait. You know about Imhotep? How?"

"Your sister, Evelyn."

Jonathan blinked.

"Wait, you've been in contact with Evie? How? And why would she even go and tell a stranger like you such a tale? Of course, the incident in Egypt did capture most of the world's attention, but we managed to keep our tale to a select few."

"Well, perhaps one of those select few was someone I knew," she said, her voice somber _again._

_Christ, this girl needs to go to a carnival or something. Get some fresh air. Something to cheer her up._

"Right, well, I know a tight-lip when I see one. But I still think I'm entitled to know why you even visited my baby sister in the first place. How do I know you're trustworthy? I mean, you can tell me you're a scholar, and you can tell me you saw my sister and Rick, but that could be codswallop."

"You don't, technically. But I'm no fool. I would not have come here had I not known how to convince you, which your sister said would be difficult. But leverage is what I have." And with that, she pulled out some notes from her rucksack and handed them to him.

"Two-hundred pounds. One hundred up front, the rest when we return from our expedition. Does that suffice, even if nothing else will? Your sister said you were probably in the market for cash, considering you lost most of your treasure due to gambling."

He cradled the pounds like they were his first-born, becoming more thoroughly convinced that this girl had, in fact, spoken to Evie. "Well, I must admit, this does…change things, perhaps. But why do you need me anyway? You've got a map. You seem intelligent. And you've got enough money to hire a local who could take you all over this damn country."

"After what happened in my childhood, I do not know whom I can trust in this country. But I do know that I can trust the man who raised me, and he trusted your family. With your sister pregnant, she couldn't make the trip, nor do I blame her. So that leaves me with you. So, as I said, that money ensures that you'll be my guide, my Egyptologist, and my guard.

"So..." She took a step forward. "Do we still have a deal?" She held out her hand. Jonathan thought about it. She did know about Evie's pregnancy, something she'd only recently told Jonathan. And what she'd said about Evie was pretty damn accurate.

_Ugh. Fine. But only for the money!_

Jonathan sighed, and gingerly took her hand to shake. Her grip was extremely firm and he winced.

"Excellent," she said, smiling for the first time since she'd barged into his office. It was rather striking. "I shall see you tomorrow at 9 a.m. sharp. Shall we say, in front of the nearest pub, Bastet's Bottles?"

Jonathan nodded, wincing and shaking the feeling back into his hand as she firmly shut the door, hoping the hangover he could feel coming would pass sooner than later.


	3. Help

Disclaimer: Nothing that you see is mine.

Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows! Also a note: I call Rick and Evie Richard and Evelyn in this chapter because those are the only names for them Alexandria knows. Also SPOILER alert: Rick and Evie are in this chapter!

Egypt, outskirts of Cairo, 1906

_Something stank. She could hear flies buzzing, and the grunting of an animal. It was a sound she'd become familiar with thanks to the miles she'd logged in the desert on the back of a dromedary with her father._

Her father.

_The realization sank into her skin like the rays of the sun that were beginning to peek from the horizon, and she choked on a sob. A hand wrapped around her waist and kept her from falling off the camel, and Alexandria, still lost in the moment, attempted to kick and hit the person holding onto her so tightly. _

_"Alexandria, stop! It is me, Kazeem! Please, stop fighting!"_

_As she looked at the sun rising in the East casting pools of purple color in the sky, the name came back to her. _Kazeem._ The man her father had supposedly signaled during their capture to watch over her. She could remember vividly the men surrounding her father. She remembered the men surrounding her and her father, silently, coldly, like some sort of possessed soldiers taking orders from their leader-and in a way, that was exactly what had happened. Men possessed by hate, and greed, and chaos. Alexandria could remember the glowing red eyes of Seth as he prepared his exit from the scroll before her father had kept the creature from escaping, scattering his soul to the four corners of Egypt. _

_And, above all else, she could remember her father's hollow, open eyes as he lay lifeless in the darkening sands surrounding him. _

_Suddenly, Alexandria could not wait to escape this country, its dangers, and its stench of death. _

_"Where are we going?" _

_"We will head to Alexandria. From there, we will board a ship to Rome, and travel by train to Paris, and find safe passage to London. You need to be home." _

_She could remember whenever she and her father had come to Alexandria in the past he would always remind her it was the city after which she was named. _

"Beautiful Alexandria in beautiful Alexandria," _he would say to her as they departed the ship, or the carriage, or car, or the camel. _

_She had to find a way to push the memories, so fresh and so painful, into her subconscious for the time being, or she knew she wouldn't be able to make it to safety. If, in fact, safety was what awaited her. What exactly did she know about this Kazeem guy? Nothing, except that he smelled like lavender (which was a nice change of pace from the smell of the camel), had a thick but discernible accent, and was supposedly taking her far away from this mess that had somehow found her and shattered her tiny world of two, only to rebuild a new one. She tensed up with the realization that the man holding on to her could be plotting her death even as he saved her. _

Don't say anything to him. Don't say anything at all, you can't let him in on your suspicions, Alexandria. Whatever you do, not a word.

_"And why should I trust you? I mean, you could be a bad guy, too. You were with all of those men. I mean, you could still be one of them. " _

_Kazeem didn't say anything, but instead shifted behind her. Afraid he might have been grabbing a gun or knife, Alexandria tensed up. She could attempt to jump off the camel like she had after waking, but where would she go? She subtly surveyed her surroundings; nothing but sand and rising sun greeted her. Not an oasis in sight. Either this man was truly her savior, or she would be dead from his hand or lack of water or food. She decided to stay put._

_Abruptly, Kazeem placed something in Alexandria's hand. She looked down and felt her mouth open widely. In her hand was a brooch in the shape of a scarab, with two winged vulture-type creatures on either side. Alexandria's breath became more shallow as she held the trinket in both hands, examining it in the new morning light. _

"_This was my mum's! My daddy kept it in a small box in our apartment! How did you—"_

_"Your father gave that to me as a sign of good faith. He and I have known each other for quite some time now, and I hope it will serve as proof enough that I intend nothing but your safety." _

_Alexandria stood still for a moment, then nodded slowly, still twirling the brooch absentmindedly. The camel gave a strange call and when Alexandria looked up, they were on the outskirts of Cairo, towards the train station. _

_"Inshallah, we are one step closer to leaving this country," Kazeem said as he hopped off the camel and grabbed Alexandria around her waist, lowering her safely to the ground. _

_As Kazeem began leading the camel towards the outskirts of town, Alexandria stopped and turned to take in the dusty sands, the waves of heat feet off the ground, and the pyramids in the distance. It was strange. She had been in Egypt so long that as much as she detested the sand, the approaching heat of the sun as it slowly made its way higher to climax, and the stupid smelly camel who made strange noises, in that moment she knew that at some point in time in her life, maybe days, months, or years from now, she would miss the place that had become like a home to her. She would yearn to return to country where her father was now laid to rest. And she would yearn for revenge._

_With that unsettling thought, Alexandria turned back and ran to catch up to Kazeem, not looking back at the ocean of sand again. _

London, England, 1927

_"'Hello, my name is Alexandria Robertson.' No, too formal? Not formal enough? How about, 'Greetings, I am here today to inquire if you would-" No, heavens no. Perhaps, 'I need your help'? Simple and to the point? God, this is hopeless." _

_Alexandria was nearly out of breath as she climbed the steps of the apartment complex, her forehead sheened in sweat. She wiped it gingerly with her glove and cursed inwardly. She was a respectable English woman with a recently-inherited fortune and a high education; a right and proper woman of society. And yet here she was, terrified of contacting the Carnahan-O'Connell couple. The name 'Carnahan' had appeared frequently in Kazeem's files, and with the parchment she had discovered amongst his many artifacts and papers, she knew she could not turn back, despite her reservations. _

_Although the pair had only resided in London for a few months, when Alexandria had inquired about them to the locals of the area, it seemed they had already garnered a reputation. The wife, Evelyn, was known around town for her love of Egyptology and for her persistence in acquiring a museum position with the famous Bembridge Scholars. She was just the woman Alexandria needed to see. Unfortunately, Evelyn's husband, Richard O'Connell, had earned himself a more…infamous reputation. It seemed his troubled past in Cairo had followed him all the way to Northern Europe, from the way folks of the area spoke about him. Though it was rumored the couple had claimed a small fortune from their travels in Egypt, the address that Alexandria had finally procured led her to a part of town not usually reserved for the more wealthy Londoner. _

_Finally, attempting to muster her loud, heaving breaths, Alexandria composed herself as she prepared to knock on the red, wooden door, apartment 727. No nameplate gave the duo away, but she was sure this was it. This was the home of the couple who could either provide her with the answers she needed, or the couple who would turn her away, forcing her to take more drastic measures. _

One, two, three….

_Alexandria counted the breaths before knocking twice on the door. At first she heard nothing, and was afraid she'd picked the wrong time. But as soon as she was considering turning around and leaving, the door opened to reveal a handsome brunette man in his 30s. Considering the bruises she could visibly see on his face, it looked like he'd seen a fight or two in his lifetime. She heaved a breath and put on her best smile. _

_"Mr. O'Connell, I am—"_

_"No."_

_The door was slammed shut in her face almost as soon as it opened. Alexandria stood there, brows furrowed, shocked at the rudeness of a one Mr. Richard O'Connell. But after all the research she'd done, and after what she'd discovered in Kazeem's belongings, she would not give up so easily to some rude, rugged man. She knocked, more fervently this time, and took a step back._

_The door swung open again, revealing a rather annoyed Richard O'Connell._

_"Look, lady, I don't know who you are, but I can guarantee we're not interested, 'kay?" Alexandria was a bit taken aback by his unabashed American accent. _

_"I believe that would be for your wife to decide, with all due respect." _

_Before Mr. O'Connell could reply, a female voice came from within the house. _

_"Rick, darling, who is it?"_

_"Well I was attempting to introduce myself, but your husband has yet to let me," Alexandria said, mirroring his annoyed look right back at him. _

_"Oh Rick, for heaven's sake, at least let her introduce herself and state her purpose before slamming the door on her. Not everyone we know is a treasure-seeker."_

_"Alright, alright," Rick murmured under his breath as he rubbed his forehead frustratingly, before laying eyes back on Alexandria. "So, what do you want?"_

_Alexandria attempted to fake a smile as she reached for her the parchment in her knapsack. "Mr. and Mrs. O'Connell—or Ms. Carnahan, really— I need your help. I'm the girl who was raised by your father's friend, Kazeem Hakim. My name is Alexandria Robertson, and I have some information of his that I think would be useful to you." _

_The words didn't register anything on Mr. O'Connell's face, but Alexandria could hear slow shuffling from inside the apartment. Suddenly, the front door swung fully open to reveal a very beautiful—and very pregnant—Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell. _

_"Mr. Hakim?" she said, her eyes alight, almost as if she were lost in memory. "I haven't heard that name in years! Not since shortly after my parents' deaths. Oh do come in, please!" She gave Mr. O'Connell a look that said 'You better shut your mouth,' before smiling back at Alexandria and letting her in. _

_As Alexandria entered, she surveyed the apartment. It was small but well taken care of, with a pleasant smell she couldn't quite place. Different artifacts lined the tables and counters, and she could see that Evelyn truly was a lover of all things ancient, as people she'd spoken to had told her. Clearly, her father's love of Egypt ran through his daughter's veins. _

_Evelyn picked up some sort of tablet and set it aside in order to make room for Alexandria to sit down, then sat down across from her and next to Richard, who still looked a bit skeptical. _

_"Would you like some tea?" Evelyn said, standing up swiftly. "Where are my manners? I could make whatever you'd like."_

_"Evie, would you stop? That thing is gonna pop right out of your stomach if you don't give it a rest," Richard said, putting his hand on her arm as if encouraging her to sit down. He turned to Alexandria, the look on his face _still _skeptical. "So do you want anything, or what?"_

_"Oh, Rick!" Evelyn said, smacking his arm. _

_"Erm, no, thanks, actually. I'm fine." Alexandria set her bag down on the table and rifled through it, pulling out the fragile parchment. _

_"So how is Kazeem now?" Evelyn said enthusiastically. _

_Alexandria stopped flattening her papers and stared up at her, before remembering Evelyn hadn't heard Kazeem's name in years. "He's….gone," she finally said. "He passed away about a month ago of old age." _

_"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry for your loss. Like I said, I had not seen the man in years, but he was always a kind soul. Loved Egypt as much as my father did. He was actually the man who introduced my father to my mother!" _

_Alexandria smiled up at her. "He truly was a great man, and a great father figure. He raised me, actually, after the death of my father."_

_"Oh, I am dearly sorry to hear that," Evelyn said with such genuine emotion. Alexandria suddenly felt compelled to go ahead and tell the whole truth to this couple who she hoped would help her. _

_"It was a long time, ago. I was only seven. He was murdered by the Cult of Seth." _

_Rick's expression didn't change, but the Evelyn's face suddenly took on a sickened look. "The…Cult..of Seth?"_

_"Yes."_

_"They were believed to be pure myth. No evidence of them has ever been found, save for the tales spoken by locals of Egypt."_

_"Yeah, well, that's what they said about Hamunaptra," Rick said to Evie. "And look what happened there."_

_"What exactly did happen there?" _

_"Are you sure it was the Cult of Seth? Truly?" Evelyn asked._

_Alexandria nodded. "They were seeking to release Seth from the Scroll of Set, and instead, my father read some sort of incantation that not only kept Seth imprisoned, but scattered the scroll in four pieces across Egypt."_

_Alexandria attempted full composure as she remembered the hollow look in her father's dead eyes—almost as if he was seeing something beyond Earth, beyond the universe—but she could feel her eyes becoming wet despite herself. _

_"He saved me that day. He saved the world. In his memory, I wish to gather the four pieces of the scroll and keep them hidden, before they fall into the wrong hands. I owe him this much."_

_Richard, now in a more relaxed position, cleared his throat. "Look, lady. I'm real sorry about your dad and all. But this i'nt my first go around here. I know a good con artist when I see one. Her brother taught me that." He shook his head towards Evelyn. "So, how do we know this isn't a bunch of bullshit so you can go and find the pieces yourselves?"_

_Alexandria normally would've berated such a rude man, but she needed the help of the people before her. "That is what I'm hoping to prove with this."_

_She gestured towards the papers she'd laid out before her. The first was a crudely drawn map she'd discovered in Kazeem's files after he'd passed. Everything in his will naturally went to her, and though initially she had viewed the document as another piece of paper with Kazeem's confusing scribbles, at further glance it revealed to be more important than she could imagine. The second paper would—hopefully—prove to be enough evidence for Evelyn and Richard both. She lifted it up for Evelyn to see._

_"I found this in Kazeem's things. Do you recognize it?" She handed it to Evelyn, who scrutinized it before her eyes widened. "That's…me on my father's shoulders with Kazeem. And…is that…_You…_on his shoulders?" _

_Alexandria smiled. "It is. When I found this in Kazeem's things, I knew I had proof enough that you would trust me. At least, I hope this is enough." _

_Richard took the photo from Evelyn's hands and scrutinized it too, looking back and forth between it and Alexandria. "Hmmm….yeah. Okay. I believe ya. Finally. But why not show us this first thing?"_

_Alexandria rolls her eyes. _Does this man ever believe anything?_ she thought. "Well that would make me look like a maniac, would it not? 'Here I am, let me thrust this photograph in your face?'"_

_Richard sniffed. "Point taken. So uh…what's this other…this document, map…thing here?"_

_"This is a map Kazeem worked on during his lifetime as possible locations for the four missing pieces. It seemed he was doing his own research regarding the scroll. Perhaps he feared the Cult of Set was regrouping. I do not know. He sheltered me from that life after I came here when I was seven. I tried to talk about Egypt sometimes, when the memories were not quite as bad, but he would not say much on the subject. As disrespectful as it sounds, after he passed, I knew I had my opportunity to finally get some answers."_

_She looked up at Evelyn. "And that's where you come in."_

_Evelyn looked determined. "What do you need?"_

_Alexandria shifted the map so that it faced Evelyn and Rick. "Everything Kazeem wrote, he wrote in hieroglyphics instead of in English or even Arabic. I can't translate them. But I was hoping you could." _

_Evelyn smiled. "Happy to help. Richard, would you mind getting me a pencil and paper?" _

_As Richard got up, Evelyn began translating under her breath, and began writing down her words with pen and paper. _

_Alexandria and Richard sat quietly, both entranced with Evelyn's quick hand and quick translation skills. Alexandria could feel the passion emanating from Evelyn as she read and wrote, and she could tell the young woman truly had a passion for this kind of work. _

_Finally, about fifteen minutes later, Evelyn set her pencil down. "Well, Alexandria, it seems that Kazeem has all but solved the mystery of where the pieces of the scroll may be. If you look here, in these four spots, these are the locations in which he believes the pieces may be." She gestured to the four spots on the map covered in the hieroglyphics in Kazeem's handwriting—two were near the Nile, and two were near the Red Sea. Not exactly the four corners of Egypt. "However, from his research, it appears that each of these locations is a 20-mile radius, so searching would be difficult without an excavation crew. I could give you some names of people in Egypt, if that would suit you._

_Alexandria smiled. "That would be wonderful. The only problem is, I would also need a guide. Someone who can read any new hieroglyphics connected with the scroll pieces, and someone who knows the landscape of Egypt well. Someone I can trust. An Egyptologist." Alexandria hesitated. "I initially wished to ask—and pay—both of you to potentially show me, but now I see that is not an option, understandably." She inclined her head towards Evelyn's round stomach. "Which is why I now ask—do you know any trustworthy Egyptologists?"_

_Evelyn thought for a moment, then realization came across her face. She looked up towards Rick, who looked confused, then joined her in realization. "Oh no. No, no. You know Jonathan can't be trusted to save his own ass. Do you really want her to have cart him around Egypt?"_

_"He is someone we trust, and kindly, do not speak about Jonathan that way. You must admit that since Hamunaptra he has proven himself to be brave enough to hold his own. And you and I both know he could use the money these days. This does not seem like a difficult or dangerous mission, and it would give Jonathan a chance to actually be useful at his job." _

_"Yeah, but…it's _Jonathan," _Richard said. _

_Evelyn sighed. "Look, it's only a recommendation, Ms. Robertson. If you find someone you feel is more fit," she shot Richard a nasty look, "then you can ignore Jonathan. But _I personally_ believe he's a good fit for you. Although with all the money in the world it might take him some convincing, but I believe it to be worth your while to try if you choose to complete this endeavor. Unfortunately, money is his main love, and seeing a glimpse of it will no doubt peak his interest." _

_"Now _that_ is definitely true," Richard said. _

_"Well, I did inherit a decent amount from Kazeem. I fully intend to to use it for this trip, and obviously Mr. Carnahan will receive a decent sum. Now…" Alexandria hesitated. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened at Hamunaptra." _

_Evelyn and Richard gave each other a look, and Evelyn looked back down at the picture of her, her father, Kazeem, and Alexandria. It must've been enough for her, because she finally looked back up at Alexandria, and told her the fantastical, horrific tale of the cursed man Imhotep and his return to the sands thanks to the help of Evelyn, Richard, Jonathan, and some man named Ardeth Bay. _

_When Evelyn finished, Alexandria sat silently, taking it all in. She knew that magic and curses existed—what she'd seen as a child cemented that belief in her—but the intricacies of the story were enough to keep one processing it long after. _

_"So…he's still at Hamunaptra," Alexandria said aloud. "Just…there. Dead but not dead. Forever."_

_"Well, hopefully he's in Hell where he belongs," Richard said. "But in theory, yeah. So uh….don't go looking for the Book of the Dead or anything like that. That uh…that wouldn't be good for any of us."_

_Alexandria laughed—it was the first laugh she'd had that day. "I wouldn't do any such thing, I assure you." She took a somber turn. "After what happened with my father, I've seen enough evil and magic to know I don't want to see it ever again." She looked up at them intensely. _

_"Well…Uh…Good," Rick replied, and Evelyn nodded. The room became completely quiet, each of the three lost in thought._

_"Well," Alexandria finally said, gathering her belongings and putting them back in her bag. "Thank you for everything you've provided. I hope to make this trip an uneventful one. I just want to collect the pieces. No book-reading or magic spells from me. I can't even read Arabic that well, to be honest with you. And I thank you for trusting me. After Kazeem passed, it's nice to have someone to talk to who knew him. We led a pretty reclusive life."_

_Evelyn reached out to hug her as best she could despite the pregnant stomach. _

_"Oh, by the way, if you don't mind me asking, do you have names picked out for the baby?" Alexandria asked as Evelyn and Richard escorted her to the front door. _

_"Well, if it's a girl we were thinking Elizabeth or Maria. And for a boy, we were thinking Richard Junior … or Alex." She gave Alexandria a knowing smile, who smiled in return, although the name still brought her a twinge of pain, considering it was her father's nickname for her. _

_"Well, Mrs. O'Connell, given my own name, I think you know my personal preference." _


	4. Nightmare

Thanks for any reviews! I'm hopping I can eventually gain more of an audience with this piece, as any criticism definitely helps in the end.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine, sadly. But Alexandria and any original characters are happily under my care!

Mr. Carnahan was late.

Alexandria took a sip from her glass of water and surveyed her surroundings, hoping to see his face in the crowd of people who hurried by Bastet's Bottles, which, unsurprisingly, was open even at this early hour. All that greeted her was an elderly woman leading a donkey through the streets, two young kids dancing for money, and a dizzying array of international tourists, none of whom were lanky, hungover British lads with a pension for loose lips.

She sighed.

Her men had all arrived, and were all laughing and talking as they filled their stomachs with food and drink before making their way to the docks. She suspected that more than one was filling his stomach with alcohol, and thought back to what she knew about Islam, and what was forbidden. But in the end, as long as the men aided her in her search and excavation they could sin against whatever god they liked.

Alexandria was shaken from her religious thoughts by the sudden thud of a glad on the rickety table. She looked up to see Abdul sitting across from her and taking a big gulp from whatever was in his mug. He more or less acted as the mouthpiece and leader of the group of nine Egyptian men Alexandria had found through advertisements and hearsay to help her, along with the help of one absent Jonathan Carnahan. Ideally, he would serve as the brains, Abdul and his men as the brawn, and Alexandria as the heart and backbone. So far, with the men consuming alcohol at such a rapid pace and with with one absent—_still absent—_Mr. Carnahan, Alexandria was already feeling less than ecstatic about the rest of the journey, despite her hopes.

She realized she was staring at Abdul's mug, and looked up to see him grinning. Don't worry, it's water."

Alexandria blushed a bit and looked down at her hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so obvious, Mr. Siddig. I'm not your den mother. I'm your employer. Obviously you can drink whatever you like. I only hope the hangover the men procure will hit them _after_ the boat ride. I don't think alcohol and choppy waters make a good mix."

He smiled and tipped his cup towards her. "That, you are most certainly right about. But not to worry. I know how to keep my men in place. That's why you hired me, after all."

Alexandria smiled back. "That it is. I have the utmost confidence. I wouldn't have hired you otherwise. But then again, my track record isn't looking so good…."

She purveyed the crowd yet again, but no such luck.

She turned back to Abdul. "How long have we been sitting here?"

Abdul pulled a pocket watch from his robes. "It appears about…half an hour. Your odds are not looking so good at this point, I'm afraid. Perhaps we could venture on towards the boat without him, hope he catches up. After all, if he is not leaving the greatest first impression, and I'm sure the ten of us could manage well enough even beyond that."

Alexandria shook her head. "No. As bad as his short track record already is, he's got skills none of us possess. And besides," she said, standing up, "I promised the man quite a large sum, and a lady always keeps her promise, even to men like him. Keep an eye on the men won't you? I'm going to fetch Mr. Carnahan, even if I have to drag him by the bottle cemented to his hands."

Abdul choked on his drink with laughter and nodded his head as a promise. As Alexandria walked away she turned back once to see Abdul making his way towards the men, his voice raised, a string of what she guessed to be Arabic curse words leaving his mouth. She slightly smiled and began the brisk walk to the Cairo Museum, avoiding street vendors and the occasional vehicle or donkey.

Of course at this point she had no idea where Mr. Carnahan lived, she realized, but the museum was the best—and only—place for her to start. Besides, after their awkward meeting yesterday, in which Jonathan Carnahan had clearly gone to bed with a bottle of scotch, Alexandria had a feeling he slept in his office more often than not.

Finally, the tan brick building was in her sights. Alexandria entered between throngs of tourists, paid what little fee there was, and made her way into the large hall filled with so many artifacts and treasures. On a normal day she would've stopped in awe to take in all the items behind the display cases, but this was not a normal day, and if she was being honest with herself, seeing the artifacts reminded her too much of the dreams that had befallen her ever since she had arrived in the country. Jonathan being late was not the only reason Alexandria's mind and eyes had wandered in Bastet's Bottles.

_It had started her first night in Alexandria, in a rather plush hotel room. Exhausted from a flight and a long ship ride, it had taken her all but five minutes to fall asleep._

_But it was almost as if she had not fallen asleep at all. Ever. She had basically laid there on the bed, her eyes becoming heavier in a white nightgown, and then suddenly she was standing, fully clothed, in the middle of the desert, bodies all around her. A full moon was just above the horizon, and the smell of gunpowder remained in the still air. Alexandria shivered, surprised that a desert could be so cold at night, and wondering if this was a dream or reality. It certainly felt like reality, if the chill on her skin and the sand squinched between her toes told her. She wanted to be practical and tell herself it was nothing but an extremely lucid dream, but the memories of her childhood had pretty much shot complete practicality in the face. _

_Tried as she might growing up, she could never convince herself what she had seen was a complete illusion. And the way Kazeem forbidded her to re-enter the country or discussed what had happened with her father made her wonder as well. If the events of that night had been completely an illusion, he would've assured her as much. But he never did. _

_Alexandria shook her head. How could she be thinking about that when she was surrounded by dead bodies? _For heaven's SAKE, Alex! _She fought the sudden nausea that hit her at the idea of having to touch dead bodies, but she pushed past it and ran to the nearest man, grabbing his wrist and checking for a pulse. There was none. She checked the next. None. And the next. None. Once she had completed the circle, and had checked each wrist, she knew she had the only beating heart in the vicinity. _

_A sudden movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Someone was walking towards her. A man, she thought, but he was still too far away to tell, and even the light of a full moon wasn't that strong. She wanted to run, but found her limbs immobile. Not by choice. She began to panic, her breath becoming shallower as the man drew near. Wait. No. Not a man. A jackal with a man's body. Seth. As he drew closer he lifted his arms as if coming to embrace her, and a growl came deep from within his throat. Alexandria had woken just as Seth had joined her in the inner circle of bodies, her body completely drenched in sweat, and after calming herself down and splashing water on her face, she'd chocked the whole thing up to her sadness over the death of her father now that she'd returned to the country where it had all happened. _

But then the dream had happened again. Four times in the last seven days. And as nervous as she'd been to sleep the subsequent nights, she always managed to get a decent night's sleep, even with the crazy dreams. It was a miracle, really.

So Alexandria avoided looking at any artifacts, afraid that she'd be face to face with any sort of depiction of Seth. It was just too much and too soon. However, eyes don't always obey a brain, and without her permission they landed on a display case with a statuette inside. Seth. Just like in her dream, Alexandria found that she could not make her limbs move no matter how much she commanded them. She looked into the eyes of the figure, and as they bore back into hers they suddenly turned a very distinct red.

Alexandria gasped, and someone accidentally bumped into her, knocking her out of her reverie. She ignored the elderly man muttering an apology and made her way through the room as quickly as she could, thankful her eyes didn't rebel again. She made her way to Mr. Carnahan's office and knocked fiercely, her mind still on the display case in the other room.


End file.
